


Code Yellow Boyo

by daemoninwhite



Category: BioShock
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, PWP, Snuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 03:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2294573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daemoninwhite/pseuds/daemoninwhite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It probably says something about him that when Frank finally gets Jack on his belly, his mind instantly wanders to mind control phrases.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Code Yellow Boyo

The kid’s fucking tight, stretched and trembling around Frank’s cock. He probably should’ve stretched him out more, the tightness just barely verges on painful, but a good fucking’ll loosen him right up. Anyways, he doesn’t really think the kid gives a damn, not with the way he’s shoving back onto Frank’s dick. Besides, with the way the kid sounds after a splicer gets him—the same punched-out grunt he’d given when Frank finally bottomed out—he’s not one to mind pain. Frank knows his type. He’s fucked it before.

“Little whore,” he murmurs in Atlas’ voice, and grunts when the kid tightens further in response. Franks leans back, hauling the kid up onto his knees as he goes. It’s a fucking gorgeous sight, all shaking back muscles and fine ass. Frank hasn’t had his dick in something this lovely for a while – he’s got a rule, funnily enough, to never stick his dick in a crazy, which counts out most of the people around here. Goddamned splicers. The kid looks far more like Ryan’s moll than Ryan, thank God, a pretty, wide-eyed thing like she’d been. He’s got Ryan’s jaw and nose, not that it matters when the kid’s stretched out on his stomach, hands wrapped tight around the cold iron of the bed frame. Frank’s not sure if he’s still hard, he’s buggered enough men to know that most of the time a man needs a bit of extra attention at the start.

“Would you kindly be a good boy and jerk yourself off?” he breathes into the kid’s ear. Pleasure curls through his gut as the kid obeys. Frank’s never claimed to be a good man, but it probably says something about him that that unquestioning obedience arouses him far more than any ass or pussy ever has. His very own Pinocchio, pretending to be a real boy. Dark pleasure, hot, heavy arousal, threads through his cock regardless of how the kid shifts around him. Fuck, but sometimes it’s good to be Frank goddamned Fontaine. Paying Suchong to make the kid was the best decision he ever made.

But WYK isn’t the only trigger the boy’s under. He stutters in his rhythm as he remembers, mentally runs through the list the slant gave him, and grins violently as he remembers the most perfect fucking words.

“Code yellow, boyo,” he murmurs. His breath hisses out of him as the kid’s whole body tightens up, bucks back against him unconsciously.  _Fuck_ , but that’s sweet. He shifts so that one hand is on the kid’s shoulder, forcing him down further into the mattress. It’s got two benefits: it forces the kid’s ass to the perfect fucking angle, and his heart is pounding hard enough that Frank can feel it. Can feel when his heart literally skips a beat.

The kid shifts, maybe uncomfortable, maybe just shifting. Frank bites his lip, weighs up the tightness in his stomach and how close he is, and leans back, swaps the shoulder for the kid’s dick. It won’t do for the kid to remember ‘Atlas’ trying to suffocate him, after all. Not that he’ll say anything, if previous experience’s anything to go by. Kid’s the silent type. Makes the groans, the huffs of breathe Frank makes him make just that little bit sweeter, with the added bonus of the kid never mouthing off to him. He’s left more than one bed partner high and dry because the fucker wouldn’t stop bleating. In any case, he can feel the kid’s pulse in his dick a damn sight better than his shoulder. His body’s got the rhythm back now, rocking back eagerly onto Frank’s cock, breath hissing out of him whenever his pulse kicks it down a notch. Kid’s probably never been fucked before—possessive annoyance flickers through Frank for a moment, the kid’s  _his_ goddamned science project, bought and paid for with  _his_ money, he owes Frank everything about his Frankenstein of an existence, and he hates it when others play with his toys, so the kid had  _better_ be a goddamned virgin—so with any luck, he’ll chalk it up to the buggery. From the way the kid staggers out of them and has to be reminded of what he’s ‘kindly’ doing, the vitachambers do a number on his short term memory anyway.

Frank rolls his hips quicker, harder. His skin’s tightening, like he’s climbing a mountain and the top’s in sight and he’s so close to being  _there_ . He tightens his hand around the kid’s dick, not that it matters, the kid’s losing his erection, pulse’s too slow to keep him hard. But his body still clings, tightening up and slacking off as the kid’s heart gives out on Frank’s order. He shifts his hips, manages to nudge the kid’s sweet spot, and the kid’s close enough that it feels good enough to make his body tense just enough to fucking pull Frank’s orgasm right out of his balls. He bites down hard on the back of the kid’s neck, fingers clench bone-bruisingly deep on his hips. The kid’s legs are shaking, thigh muscles like iron. His dick’s mostly soft in Frank’s hand. He rests his forehead against the kid’s shoulder, sucks in a few deep breaths, and sits up.

“Good boy,” he says, and shoots Jack in the back of the head.

 

(Vitachambers only work for violent deaths, after all.)

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted to the Bioshock Kink Meme here: http://biotrash.dreamwidth.org/427.html?thread=117931#cmt117931
> 
> Original prompt for Jatlas code yellow snuff smut.


End file.
